


Chaos Theory

by Herald_of_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creature Fic, Creature Harry, Dark Character, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Original Character(s), Out of Character, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:57:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herald_of_Dreams/pseuds/Herald_of_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairings: Multi/Harry<br/>Rating: M<br/>Warnings: SLASH, mpreg, violence, mild language<br/>Summary: Dark! Intelligent! Harry. Harry Potter was imprisoned in late 2000 for the death of his Muggle relatives. Convinced Harry was framed, the Order searches for evidence. It is now 2002 and they still haven’t found evidence to support their idea. What none of them realise is, there is no evidence because he really IS guilty… You will have input on future Harry pairings after the first two!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos Theory

May 2002

It was never quiet here. Even when the screams of the condemned finally faded into quiet, helpless sobs, there was always _noise._ It irritated him; he had grown used to quiet as a child, crouched in his cupboard. The wind howled through the empty corridors, the rain dripped in through holes in the stone and pooled on the floor, even the Dementors created a noise of their own, a hollow _swish_ as they moved around, empty throats rattling in a mockery of speech as they drained their surroundings of all happiness.

Harry Potter turned his head and studied the window in his cell with cold, hardened green eyes. He noted the progress of the sun through the sky, gauging its path and descent. He did this with practiced ease, having noted all the patterns he could here in almost two years. He didn’t so much as twitch when one of the Dementors came by, instead closing his eyes and slowing his breath until he could hardly be noticed to be breathing at all.

The creature remained outside his cell for only a moment before departing. Aside from the damp chill they left behind, the Dementors had long stopped affecting him. Ironic really, the very subject Severus Snape had strove vainly to teach him came almost without effort when it was really needed. A smirk twisted his painfully dry lips, cracking the bottom a little. He flicked his tongue out of his mouth a little, tasting the coppery metallic tang of his own blood.

He flicked his eyes again to the window. _Now._ It was almost the end of shift for the human guards; they were making their last rounds through the vast halls of Azkaban prison now. The younger guard Harry had been studying for months was on duty for his block today. Harry was in the top inner center of the triangular prison, along with a couple of Death Eaters.

He positioned himself carefully against the wall, slouched low with his legs bent under him. He messed up his already ratty hair a bit more and slumped to the side, resting his head on his right shoulder and lowering his eyelids. He studied the far wall of the corridor carefully and when he noticed the lengthening shadows and curl of light he coughed once. Satisfied with the hacking sound of it he repeated it, not often enough to draw suspicion but enough to give the impression he was close to death or on that dark figure’s doorstep.

Exactly as he’d planned, the fresh-faced young guard drew up to his cell, shoving forward a mage-light and flooding his cell with startling brightness. He lowered his lids a little more, irritated by the bright light. The guard hesitated just long enough to make him worry about his plan before he heard the sound he’d been waiting for; the heavy rasp of an old rusty key in an equally old lock. _Bingo._

He remained as still as possible as the guard approached, a fact made more difficult by the knowledge of exactly how small amount a time he had to make this work. Finally he saw booted feet in his sight and tensed his muscles, just a little.

“You’re a sorry sight, aren’t you?” The guard commented both pity and derision making their way into his tone. “You were supposed to be our Saviour, but those on the highest pedestal have the longest fall.”

While the guard had been having his one-sided conversation Harry locked his eyes on a handle protruding from his left boot. Getting annoyed and tired of the guard’s whining tone of voice he struck, moving quicker than the serpents Slytherin was so proud of.

Before the ill-fated guard realised it Harry had grabbed the long-bladed dagger and stood up in front of him, driving the shaft of the blade into his chest at a sharp angle as he stood. The guard choked and looked down, blood trickling on his lips to match the crimson stain growing on his blue and brown uniform. Harry reached out and shoved him back into the opposite wall with one arm, pacing a few strides to the door and removing the heavy collection of keys.

He studied them for a long moment before retrieving a small silver one, flicking back the arms of his prison slacks to reveal thin cuffs of silver metal. Looking up to the slowly dying guard he said conversationally, “Magic-restraint cuffs. The Ministry seemed to think I’d be less dangerous without my magic. They didn’t pay too much attention to the report of my relatives’ death, which said they’d been killed with a kitchen knife. Ironic really, the Ministry gave you the only non-magical weapon capable of passing the protection wards on your clothes.”

Once the cuffs were off he dropped them to the dirty floor of his cell, studying the keychain. He kept one eye on the guard as he passed his fingers over the keys and when the guard gave an involuntary flinch he gave a satisfied sigh. “Ahh, that’s the one I want then. A glamour, I’m assuming? Clever idea, but not clever enough.”

He walked over to the guard, who was slumping to the floor. “They gave you two of these daggers, I want the other one as well. Tell me, guard, do you have a name?”

“Conrad,” he rasped.

“A nice, strong name that. So tell me, Conrad, do you have any kids?”

“Two daughters,” Conrad answered, trembling as Harry removed his wand and the other dagger. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering. After all, how are people going to explain to them why Daddy isn’t coming home?” Harry ended his words with a cruel smile and said, “By the way, Conrad. I’m no Saviour, after all, why would I want to save people like my relatives? _Avada Kedavra._ ”


End file.
